Boat Ride
by Williamson M. Scott
Summary: Humanity can sometimes be a scary thing. Especially for those who deal with the surreal of being a human every day.


**Boat Ride**

**by: **Will

**Rating: **T

**Author's Notes:** This started playing in my head a few days ago and after 666, it got so loud, I couldn't take it anymore. I don't know what the purpose of this would be; other than to give me some break from insanity. I hope you all enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the WB or CW Supernatural.

I've always wondered what made my big brother tick. I mean, he's not your typical, ordinary human. Far from it. But I really begin to worry when he takes off on these midnight runs. What would make him want to leave the warm, somewhat cozy motel room at 1 in the morning is beyond me. Maybe he thinks he can hustle someone who's probably to far gone to care. Who know?

What I do know, is that he left the damn light on in the bathroom and it is shining through my eyelids while I'm trying to sleep. Key word, trying. I sigh. Well, the light won't get shut off as long as I lay here and bitch about it.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and am about to get up when I hear this noise. Nothing very loud, but something I recognize. I stand up and give the room a quick once over, although my vision is still a little iffy for night vision. I see nothing out of the ordinary, as long as you don't count my brother's empty bed. Asshole.

I slowly walk toward the bathroom, deciding to make use of the impromptu visit while I'm up. I get to the door and am about to push it open when the noise is back. This time a little louder. It's as if it's coming from behind the door. I concentrate on the sound and realize it's a voice. A small voice. A voice I've heard before but still can't place.

I push the bathroom door open and the light grows stronger, illuminating the interior but not what is making the sound. I step inside and cautiously wonder if my brother is playing a sick prank on me. Wouldn't be the first time.

I step into the room and nothing. Just the normal appliances and fixtures found in a bathroom. The window is fogged over, so not spirit awaits. The toilet seat is up, typical male behavior. But I stop as I realize the curtain on the bathtub is pulled. Dean nor I ever pull it shut unless we are in the shower.

I get a bit closer and the voice becomes clear. It the voice of a small boy. A boy I know I should know. It's beginning to piss me off. I reach out to jerk the curtain, but stop as the what the boy is saying registers in my mind.

_They're coming to take me away, away_

_They're coming to take me away._

_Please just let me play and play_

_Oh, please just let me play._

I watch as my hand starts to shake slightly. Then my whole arm begins to tremble until I feel this apparent quake erupt throughout my body. Without any conscience thought, I jerk the curtain back and stare into the sad, hazel eyes I know. Hell, I should know them.

I see them every time I look into the mirror.

_They're coming to take me away, away_

_They're coming to take me away._

_They say I'm to pay, to pay._

_They say I'm who must pay._

The bile has started a slow crawl into my throat and I can't get my body to cooperate with my head. I know I'm screaming for my hand to release the curtain and my brain to wake my ass up. IT has to be a fucking dream. NO way could I be seeing myself when I was five years old. No way.

A burst of coherency must have reached my limbs as I watch my hand drop, the curtain drop, and feel my legs turn toward the door and break into a dead run. I hear the slamming of the bathroom door but pay little heed as I run to the front door. I don't give a damn if anyone sees me in my boxers and T-shirt as I run screaming from the motel room.

It's a dream after all and everyone knows modesty does not play a part in dreams.

I sling the door open and stop dead. For there I am, staring back at me. A hysterical chuckle explodes from my mouth as I back away. The little me doesn't even blink.

_They're coming to take me away, away_

_They're coming to take me away._

_I tried to do what they say, they say_

_I tried to do what he would say._

Not funny anymore. So fucking not funny.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but get the fuck away from me." I kept moving backwards until my back hit the wall and then I became paralyze again. The mini-me just kept staring. Not moving, hell if I had thought about it before, his mouth had yet to move.

"This is just a dream. Just a damn dream and you're not real. Do you hear me, you're not real!" My yell seemed to drop at my feet without the normal echo. It was at this point when I felt sheer terror take hold of my body and mind. I opened my mouth once more to call for the savior I knew would be there, when the mini version glided toward me and stopped two feet away.

This time the head tilted sideways and the mouth began to open.

"They're coming to take me away, away

They're coming to take me away.

He won't be there to save, to save

He will not be there to save."

My heart dropped in that instant and I knew without a doubt I was in serious trouble.

"DEANNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

I felt a hard slap and thena resounding thump in my head. "Ow."

"Hell yeah, ow. Whatthe hell were youdoing?"

I open my eyes, almost afraid of what would be looking back at me; but when my eyes met those of annoyance and concern I know and love, I knew I was safe. A smile escaped before I could stop it and the accompanying grunt of disapproval came with it. The smile grew.

"What the hell are you smiling at, Princess?" Dean moved to mere inches from my face. "I don't appreciate the Freddy Krueger wake up call."

I could still see the concern etched in my brother's face, even though his voice would make the Devil run for cover. "Sorry, I was noticing your stylish hair-do." It was the first thing that came to mind.

"Humph..." He reached out and smacked my head before turning back to his bed. It was then I noticed the motel room and the light shining through the open window curtains. I raised myself into a sitting position and stared.

"What time is it?" I reached for the motel clock radio but found it was missing.

"Time to leave, Sleeping Beauty." Dean pulled his shirt over his head and turned to grab his waiting duffel. "While you were trading pot shots with Freddy, the phone rang and we got another destination."

I stand up from the bed and reach for my clothes, which I had left at the end of the bed. "Really, where?" I was only half interested, consideringa new mantra played steadily in my head.

"A boat dock about two hours from here."

I stop and look at my brother's back, knowing he can't see my puzzled expression. "A boat. What the hell are we suppose to find on a boat?"

"Beats the hell out of me." Dean turned around and stopped. "What's the matter?" He leaned closer.

"Uh, nothing." I quickly stand up and grab for my duffel, hoping to stave off any inquiries. "Still a little out of it from the dream."

"Speaking of the dream..." Dean reached out and grabbed my arm before I could make it past him. "What was that about? I've never heard you scream like that before, much less scream my name." He wasn't going to let this one slide, I knew it.

"Just something from another time coming back to haunt me." I shrug it off, hoping to appease the curiosity. I still wasn't sure about it myself.

A sigh escapes Dean's lips as he let my arm go. "Yeah, I can see that." He patted me quickly on the shoulder and then blew past me. "Let's go then, sweetheart, we're burning daylight."

I shake my head. Typical. I still wonder about him, but at times like these, I wouldn't trade him for the world.

I slide into the passenger seat of the car just in time. Dean had the car in gear and revved up before I even had the door shut. "What the hell is the hurry?" I asked, as my head missed the window by mere inches when the car lurched to the side.

"I just want to get this thing done and quick. I'm not that fond of boats."

I snort. Since when is he afraid of a boat. "Really. It wouldn't happen to be the water the boat sits on that you're not fond of?" That damn smile is back.

"Shut the fuck up, Sammy." Dean reached out and smacked my arm. Damn, that stung. "Anything about this old haunt I need to worry about?"

Leave it to Dean to pick at something like it was a damn bone. "No." _I hope._

"Good." And the sound of **Rush** permeated the air of the car, as the landscape flew by. I leaned my head back and tried to forget the nightly visit. I thought I heard the voice begin to play, but chalked it up to the residual effects of the dream.

As the Impala floated down the highway, as small boy with hazel eyes played in the back floorboard, singing softly to himself.

_They're coming to take me away, away_

_They're coming to take me away._

_I'll be ready to face that day, that day_

_I'll be ready to face that day._

The End

February 2006


End file.
